


Never Again [Probably]

by happyaspie



Series: Spider-man Stories: Not Otherwise Specified [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: College Student Peter Parker, Drunk Peter Parker, Fluff, Hangover, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Grumpy Little Rain Cloud, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Lives, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29811759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyaspie/pseuds/happyaspie
Summary: Peter gets invited to an off-campus party and while he's there, he decides to throw all caution to the wind and have a few drinks.  Because he can't even get drunk,v right?  But oh, how he is wrong.  He quickly learns that his metabolism, while wonderful for many reasons, does not keep him from getting drunk.  Maybe worse, it also doesn't prevent him from being hungover the next day either.It's a good thing Tony is ahead of the game.
Relationships: Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Spider-man Stories: Not Otherwise Specified [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574956
Comments: 20
Kudos: 153





	Never Again [Probably]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spideyreids2003](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideyreids2003/gifts).



> This fic is for the wonderful [@spideyspeaches](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/spideyspeaches) who sent me the prompt that inspired this fic! I had a great time writing it!

Despite having been allotted an awful lot of freedom during his teenage years, Peter quickly learned that college life offered an entirely different level of independence, that of which he eagerly accepted with reckless abandon. There were no requirements to be home for a healthy dinner, no checking in if he was going to stay out past eleven, and no mandatory family nights. And with that realization late-night video game sessions, junk food binges, and eventually, spending all hours roaming around off-campus with friends became inevitable. 

Of course, it wasn’t all fun and games. He made sure to attend all of his classes and was diligent with his studies. The license to do whatever he wanted when during his free time was exciting but he still had expectations to maintain. Not just May and the Stark’s but his own as well. He’d gotten into MIT, all on his own, without Tony’s pull and he had every intention of graduating with honors, preferably with dual majors, and was therefore very careful about trying to balance everything with precision. 

Although the lack of parental accountability did have some limits. May liked for him to call home at least once a week because she got lonely without him and Tony had insisted that he continue to wear the watch that he’d made him back when he was fifteen. It had been through many, many upgrades since then but the purpose had stayed the same. It sent the man an alert if his vitals ever suddenly jumped outside of a safe range and housed a nano-tech version of his web-shooters for emergencies. 

Both of those requests were easy enough to comply with. Calling May wasn't a chore and he’d not removed the watch from his wrist for much more than maintenance since he’d received it. Above and beyond those things, he tended to call the Stark’s on a regular basis as well. Pepper liked to ask him about his classes while Tony was always eager to hear about whatever projects and research he was working on at the time and Morgan would happily jabber away about everything that had taken place since his last call. Being constantly in contact with his family while maintaining his newly discovered sense of self-sufficiency was nice and he was content. 

Having taken on more than the average amount of credits for the semester Peter’s schedule during the week was packed full of lectures, labs, and study groups. As such, by the time Friday rolled around and he was being liberated from his last obligation of the week, he was ready to kick back, relax and have a little fun before things went back to business the following Monday. He’d just started to make his way across the quad towards the dining hall when one of his classmates sped up to meet him at his pace. 

“Hey man, you think you could be my ride home from Josie’s party tonight? There’s supposed to be plenty of beer there and I plan to get completely wasted,” the slightly older boy said with a grin that made Peter roll his eyes.

“What makes you think that I’m not planning on getting completely wasted?” he defensively inquired. Not that he was actually considering getting drunk. He wasn’t even convinced that  _ he could  _ get drunk. He just didn’t want to end up being pegged as the campus buzzkill or turned into everyone’s go-to designated driver for the rest of his college career.

“Parker,” the boy said, obviously entertained by the direction the conversation was going. you’ve never been wasted a day in your life. Admit it.” 

After shrugging off the arm that had ended up around his shoulders, Peter took a few long strides forward so that he could walk backward. “First time for everything,” he said with a smile, that turned into a huff when his classmate continued to look amusedly dubious. “And I was planning on walking. My dorm’s right at the edge of campus and her place is just a few blocks over,” he explained, turning himself back around as his spider senses flared, warning him that there was something in his path. 

“Whatever you say, man,” the boy placated and then veered off in a different direction, waving over his shoulder as he went. “See you there I guess.” 

“Yep, for sure,” Peter called out as he meandered his way towards dinner. The party wasn’t actually set to start until nine but he had no desire to show up before ten so there was no rush. He wanted to call May, he needed to take a shower and he definitely wanted to attempt to temper his curls before he left.

Before Peter even walked through the door of the large, jam-packed house, he was already beginning to question his attendance. He hardly ever went to parties, let alone parties hosted by upperclassmen but it was college and he wanted to be there, even if it was just for a little while. So, he strolled through the door with his hands in his pockets and glanced around the dimly lit room. He could see a few familiar faces gathered in the kitchen and started that way.

“Hey, Guys. What’s up?” he asked as he approached the table and instantly had a bottle of beer shoved into his hand. He held onto it for a while, eventually deciding that there was no harm in drinking it. He was enhanced and even if he wasn’t, one beer wasn’t likely to affect him. Except, one beer quickly became two, and before he knew it he was being handed a third but he was having a good time and the number hardly mattered. 

At some point, he was pulled out onto the dance floor and time became irrelevant. He could feel his body quickly growing warm and a few beads of sweat to fall into his eyes causing his vision to momentarily blur. He blinked once, then twice before rolling up his sleeves and accepted the cup of punch he’d been given, downing it in just a few large gulps. He continued to dance and laugh, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time.

Peter had just gone to get some more of the punch when he began to feel a little light-headed. As he approached the table he rubbed his temples and couldn’t tell if it was the heat that was getting to him or if his senses had simply had enough. Whatever it was he decided that perhaps some air would help so he shakily filled his cup and carried it out to the front porch.

The moment he sat down on the steps, he closed his eyes and found himself reluctant to open them again. Exhaustion had taken over and once he’d finally managed to focus on the tiny numbers displayed on his watch, it wasn’t hard to see why. It was well after two in the morning.

After having sat there for a few more minutes, Peter took a few sips of the punch and then pulled himself to standing. He started down the stairs and stumbled slightly towards the bottom, throwing himself off guard. He giggled a little at the novelty and decided that he must be significantly more tired than he thought because thanks to his spider powers, he typically had impeccable balance and poise. 

What should have been a twenty-minute walk home took closer to thirty because every time he turned his head the world would tilt, sending him into a whole new round of quiet giggling. Though it wasn’t until he got to his front door and it took him no less than four tries to get his key in the lock that he realized it. “Holy crap. I’m drunk,” he mused, laughing as he finally managed to turn the key and shoulder the door open, nearly tripping over the threshold. 

Once inside his room, he spun around a few times, cackling with delight when he toppled over onto his bed. He lay there for several minutes enjoying the way the bed felt as though it were swaying beneath him. Then out of nowhere, Ned crossed his mind and without a second thought, he was tapping his best friend’s contact information.

“Peter?” Ned croaked in quiet greeting. He’d been sound asleep in his own dorm at NYIT but unlike Peter, he had a roommate across the way and he really didn’t want to wake him up.

“Guess what, Ned,” Peter asked, not really pausing for any sort of response, “ _ I’m drunk _ .” 

Ned brought his brows together and used the hand not holding his phone to his ear to scrub his face. “I didn’t think you could get drunk because of-  _ you know _ ,” he whispered, feeling overly cognizant of the additional person in the room, despite the fact that they were snoring.

“Know what?” Peter questioned, only to have words sluggishly process seconds later. “Oh, yeah, me neither but I went to this party and it was amazing. I danced with, like-  _ everybody _ ,” he said, with an enthusiastic grin. He was sure he’d never had that much fun at any other party, ever.

Ned threw a pair of sweatpants on and quietly stepped out into the hallway, in an attempt to not disturb his roommate. “You, Peter Parker, danced?” he dubiously inquired because he’d never once seen his friend willingly step foot onto a dance floor. Not even with MJ at their senior prom.

“Well, yeah. It was a party. People dance at parties. Because girls are pretty. And boys. Boys are pretty too. You’re Pretty,” Peter dazedly stated before choking on an unexpected laugh. “Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty- pretty’s a funny word,” he said, swinging his head side to side with each syllable just to keep the room spinning.

Not knowing how to respond to any of that, Ned hesitated. “Uh, yeah. You’re- you’re pretty- too?” he finally spoke, worrying slightly when the line fell silent and he had to pull his phone away from his ear just to make sure the call was still connected.

“Are you hitting on me? ‘Cause I’m gonna tell Betty if you’re hitting on me,” Peter eventually replied and then busted out laughing all over again. 

“Dude! I’m not-” Ned whisper-shouted, with the intention of correcting his, clearly amused, and extremely inebriated best friend before deciding that it probably wasn’t worth the effort. “- you know what?”

“What?” Peter happily replied without missing a beat. 

“You should definitely drink some water and go to bed,” Ned softly suggested because it was late, he was tired, and being three and a half hours away with no car, he wasn’t exactly in any kind of position to help beyond some advice. He just hoped that this friend listened to him.

“Fine-” Peter dramatically drew out followed by a yawn that made his eyes water. “But only because I’m tired anyway,” he expanded, and as soon as they had said their good-byes, he shuffled towards the bathroom to get ready for bed. Then he wandered into the tiny kitchenette to drink the requested glass of water before flopping down onto his bed where he fell asleep nearly instantly. However, in what felt like seconds, he was being awoken by the shrill sound of AC/DC blasting out of his phone. 

Knowing it was Tony, Peter felt around on the bedside table until he had the device in his hand and brought it to his ear without ever opening his eyes. “What?” he asked, rather than greeted but his head was pounding, his stomach was churning and he simply wasn’t in the mood to be talking to anyone. In fact, had it been anyone else, he would have sent them straight to voicemail.

“Hey, Kid. How’re you doing on this fine Saturday morning?” Tony chirped into the receiver, completely undaunted by the kid’s less than amiable reception.

Peter groaned and rolled over onto his back, squinting towards the window that was pouring light directly into his face. “Unless you are  _ actively in trouble _ \- why are you calling me?” he asked before fumbling with his blankets so that he could pull them up over his face.

“You see, when I got up this morning, I was met with a  _ really interesting _ alert from FRIDAY,” Tony said with mock perplexity. “Think you might have an idea as to what it could have been about, Buddy?”

“Well, it obviously wasn’t a reminder not to call me before noon on a Saturday,” Peter blandly replied. 

“Aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine this morning,” Tony cooed.

With a deep sigh, Peter squeezed his eyes shut and reached his hand behind his head to massage the base of his skull. “Why are you doing this to me? What do you want?” he pressed when the man failed to explain the reason for the early morning wake-up call.

“Actually I was fairly interested in why you were out getting drunk at two in the morning,” Tony asked with gravity but there was an undeniable hint of mirth underlying it. “You do realize you’re only eighteen, right?”

After rolling over onto his stomach and wrapped his arms tightly around his pillow, Peter scoffed. “Yes, Tony. I’m well aware of how old I am. I didn’t drink  _ that _ much,” he defended but truth be told, he had no idea how much he’d actually had. 

Tony hummed in response but was quick to refute. “FRIDAY says otherwise. Your watch clocked you in at a whopping point twelve percent blood alcohol level.”

While he’d just never really considered that his watch could track that sort of thing, he probably should have. Tony was nothing if not thorough and FRIDAY was a snitch. “Tattle tell,” he mumbled into his pillow, wishing that the conversation would just end already. 

“Look, kid,” Tony said with a heavy sigh, “I didn’t literally bring you back from the dead so that you could go out and drink yourself to death.”

“No, you,” Peter petulantly shot back but he was tired, miserable, and not in the mood to be lectured. Even mildly.

“What are you talking about?” Tony chuckled. For as long as he’d known the kid, he was sure he’d never heard him sound quite so irritable and for whatever reason, he was finding it extremely funny. “You know that didn’t even make sense, right, Kiddo?”

Rather than agree or even disagree, Peter shifted in the bed as he became suddenly aware of his extremely full bladder. “Hang on, Tony, I’ll be right back,” he rushed out, hopping up so quickly that his phone ended up clattering onto the floor. He hurriedly bent down to pick it up so that he could apologize for the noise that had no doubt assaulted the man’s ear, cursing under his breath as he did so. “Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to drop the phone. Hang on,” he repeated with urgency, then tossed the device onto his pillow without waiting for a reply.

“Did you puke?” Tony questioned with nothing but sympathy once the kid tiredly announced his return.

“What? No, I needed to pee,” Peter returned before tumbling back onto the bed and pulling the comforter up under his chin. Then his stomach gurgled dangerously and he began to compulsively swallow. “I wish I had puked,” he murmured mostly to himself.

“What was that?” Tony asked. He’d heard the kid speak but it had been so low and garbled that he'd not had any idea what he’d said. 

Peter rolled his eyes but regretted it immediately when the movement sent a surge of pain through his skull. “Nothing. I said your hair looks pretty,” he groused.

“Parker, I swear to God-” Tony replied with teasing exasperation. “Did you drink  _ any _ water last night?”

“Yes! Ned told me-” Peter guardedly replied before his entire conversation with his best friend came flooding back into his memory.  _ “Oh, god _ \- Ned,” he uttered, embarrassment washing over him and flushing his cheeks. He couldn’t remember everything that he's said, word for word but he was almost certain that he’d called Ned pretty and he wasn’t sure that he’d ever recover from that. 

“Wait, what happened with Ned,” Tony asked, slightly taken aback by the kid’s seemingly random exclamation. Though the tone he’d used had left him itching with concern.

“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it,” Peter rapidly replied, eager to change the subject as quickly as possible. Or better yet, end the conversation altogether.  _ All he wanted to do was close his eyes _ . “Can I please go to sleep now?”

“Nope, You can get up, drink some more water, and make sure that you’re decent,” Tony said with a grin that could be heard in his voice. “I’m about twenty minutes out.”

At those words, Peter’s brain momentarily stalled. Then he groaned and pressed his face further into his pillow. “Why, Tony? Why can’t you just let me suffer in peace?” he whined. 

Tony rolled his eyes and smiled at the dramatics. “Would it help if I told you I had a bottle of your super drugs with me?” he asked.

As much as he’d loathed the idea of having company, not even a full thirty seconds prior, the mere mention of his super-strength pain medication had Peter automatically changed his tune. “Yay- my hero,” he said, his voice muffled by the bedding.

“Trust me, I know,” Tony assured. “Now, get up, Kid. I’ll see you soon.”

Peter had just enough time to haul himself back out of bed, throw some pants on and attempt to tug his fingers through his tangled hair. He was starting to wonder if he should jump into the shower to remove the leftover product but before he had time to decide, Tony was already requesting entrance into his dorm and subsequently tapping on his door.

“Hey there, grumps. How are you feeling?” Tony pleasantly inquired, the moment the kid opened the door.

“Fantastic. Never been better,” Peter sarcastically grumbled. But he stepped back to allow the man to enter all the same. He wasn’t trying to annoy him. Not when he had the drugs that he wanted, hidden in one of his pockets.

Tony came inside and went towards the cramped kitchenette, ruffling the kid’s hair as he walked past. “So grouchy,” Tony teased, setting a paper sack on the one small section of counter that didn’t have anything on it while taking in the boy’s pale complexion.

“Can you _ please _ just give me the pills so that I can go back to bed?” Peter pleaded as he threw himself onto one of the two ricketty barstools that set in front of the tiny, clutterer breakfast bar.

“I’ll give you the pills after you’ve eaten some breakfast,” Tony said with a smile and then began moving things around so that he could unpack the bag he’d carried in. “I come bearing gifts of greasy hash browns and orange juice.”

The smell of food filled the small room the second the man had pulled the sack open and it was all Peter could do not to gag. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, right now,” he said into the fist that had made its way up to his mouth.

“What are you talking about? This is a wonderful idea. It's how you cure hangovers. Greasy food, painkillers, and lots of fluids of the non-alcoholic variety,” Tony declared with certainty as he slid a bottle of juice, a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit, and a serving of hash browns towards the kid.

“If you say so,” Peter muttered. Then he took a deep breath, wrinkled his nose and began to unwrap the food.

“I  _ am _ sort of an expert,” Tony proclaimed, taking a sip of the juice he’d gotten for himself. “Though, I would have much rather imparted this particular wisdom after your twenty-first birthday.” 

Peter froze in place for a split second before dropping his head onto the counter. “I’m sorry, Tony. I didn’t even think I could get drunk and then-” he said, waving his hand vaguely towards himself.

“It’s fine, Kiddo,” Tony said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “Well, it’s not fine but let’s not make a habit out of it, okay?” 

“Never again,” Peter swore even though there was a teeny tiny part of his brain telling him that what he’d said wasn’t quite true. Yet the persistent ache in his head and stomach were pressing the opposite. 

“I think we both know that’s a lie,” Tony chuckled, picking a hash brown out of the kid’s pile and tossing it towards his head. “Eat your food.” 

Eating breakfast was a slow process but after a few close calls and some extra encouragement Peter managed to polish it all off, along with the two tablets Tony had doled out to him halfway through. Even after he was done he stayed on the stool and rested his head on his folded arms while watching the man tidy up his kitchen. Any other day he would have protested, insisting that he could do it himself but he simply lacked the energy.

“Feeling any better, Buddy?” Tony asked once he’d gotten everything sorted and had finished wiping down the area.

Peter took a moment to consider the question. His stomach was no longer protesting but his head was still angrily throbbing behind his eyes. “A little,” Peter admitted, closing his eyes when he felt the man’s fingers brushing a loose curl behind his ear. “I’m still tired.”

“That’s to be expected,” Tony said, fully realizing that the boy hadn't gone to sleep until after three and that he’d woken him up not even a full six-hour later. “Are you going to take a nap now?”

Peter sighed and sat up, glancing between his bed and the man who had sat just sat on the stool beside him. “Maybe. Are you leaving now?” he tentatively asked. He’d not seen Tony in weeks and now that he was there, he wasn’t sure he wanted him to leave so soon.

“Do you want me to leave now?” Tony asked with a quirk of his brow.

“I wouldn’t mind if you stayed a little bit longer,” Peter mumbled sheepishly towards his lap. “I can always nap later.”

Tony nodded and tipped his head towards the little nook that they had set up in the corner of the room when Peter had moved in. There wasn’t much to it. It was a love seat, a lamp, and a television set on top of an end table but it was a nice addition to the space. “How about we budge up on this tiny couch of yours and watch a movie?”

“M’kay,” Peter readily agreed and then slowly followed Tony across the room and sat down beside him. “Thanks for coming, Tony,” he whispered as he pulled his feet up under him and leaned heavily onto the man’s side. 

“It’s not a problem, Pete. You know, I would never leave you to deal with something like this on your own,” Tony said, readjusting his arm so that the boy had better access to his shoulder and flipping on whatever movie was already queued up. "Not the first time anyway," he amusedly corrected. “But, maybe in the future, we could cut it back to just one or two drinks per party, hmm?“

“Maybe,” Peter acknowledged, amending his answer as he sunk down a little lower into the seat, forcing Tony to take on more of his weight. “Probably.”

“How about definitely,” Tony whispered in return, fully aware that the kid was seconds away from drooling on his shirt. He used his free hand to pat the boy’s back, laughing lightly when the gesture was reciprocated with an incoherent remark. “Uh, huh. I love you too, Kiddo,” he said, leaning over to kiss him on the top of his head. “Have a nice nap.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> And v then, look for me, [@yes-i-am-happyaspie](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yes-i-am-happyaspie) on tumblr!!


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